Belles

by Jen Calonita

  “Mrs. Fitz?” Izzie spoke up, and all eyes were on her. “I have something to say. I did run into problems, but I’ve worked them out. I haven’t botched the whole party. I booked an alternate location last week. We have the barn on campus.”

  “A barn?” Savannah’s heart-shaped face was skeptical.

  “What better place to have a hoedown?” Izzie asked Mrs. Fitz, who looked curious. “We made a deal with the guy in charge, and he said we could have it for the whole weekend. It’s big enough for a dance floor and seating, and it has a great vibe.” Savannah squirmed in her seat, her plaid skirt getting more wrinkled by the second. “We are even working on getting horse-drawn carriages to take guests from the main campus to the barn for an extra donation.”

  “That’s kind of cool,” Izzie heard a girl whisper.

  “What about catering?” Savannah asked. “Mira and I know for a fact that you don’t have anything booked yet. Right, Mira?” Mira looked so conflicted, Izzie almost felt bad for her.

  “Izzie booked a DJ,” Violet said hastily.

  “Oh really? Who?” Savannah asked.

  Izzie pulled the contract out of her binder and held it up. She was starting to feel more confident. “I booked DJ Backslide. I think you’ve heard of him.” The color drained from Savannah’s face. “You tried to book him for your sweet sixteen, right? He told me he said no because he thought your theme was tacky.”

  Savannah looked momentarily flustered. “But you…you? You couldn’t have booked DJ Backslide. He’s booked for a year! Why would he work with you?”

  “Didn’t you hear?” Izzie said smugly. “DJ Backslide grew up in Harborside. We went to the same high school.” It looked like steam was going to come out of Savannah’s ears. Izzie noticed that Mira was trying not to laugh.

  “But she still doesn’t have any food,” Lea said, trying to help out Savannah, who looked like she needed oxygen. “We can’t have a party without food, and no one in town will work with her. Apparently, Izzie and her friends tried to bully them into donations.”

  “You skinny little liar,” Violet snapped, starting to stand up. Lea’s face paled. “The reason no one would work with us is because you and your friends told them not to!”

  Mrs. Fitz wiped her brow as she looked anxiously from girl to girl. “I am so confused! What is the real story, girls? I’ve never seen you so divided before! Are you really telling me we’ve sold tickets to a party that has no food?”

  “We’re sorry, Mrs. Fitz, but it’s the truth,” Savannah said contritely. “We’d never humiliate another Butterfly, but Mira and I wanted you to know what was happening, even if Izzie is her cousin. If you’d just put Mira and me back in charge, I know we could wow you.”

  “Don’t,” Mira spoke up. “Izzie didn’t screw up; we did. Violet’s right. She couldn’t book any of the food because the shops were blackmailed out of using her. Same goes for the DJ. He was purposely double-booked so he’d cancel on Izzie at the last minute.” Mira looked at her cousin apologetically. Izzie was so stunned by Mira’s confession, she just sat back and listened. “Izzie was set up to fail, and none of it is her fault. If you want to fire anyone, it should be me and Savannah.”

  “She’s lying,” Savannah said, her mouth agape. “Mira and Izzie must have been conspiring behind my back, Mrs. Fitz….”

  “Enough!” Mrs. Fitz said, her breathing irregular. “I can’t listen to any more of this fighting! I feel like I’m watching an episode of some crazy reality show! What has happened to my beautiful Butterflies? This party is a disaster! I mean, the barn is cute, and this DJ Blackjack—”

  “Backslide,” everyone in the room said.

  “Backslide,” Mrs. Fitz corrected herself. “He is a good get, but everything else…” She bit her lip, smudging her pink lipstick, and looked at Izzie. “We can’t have a party without the rest.”

  Izzie heard a ping and looked at her phone. It was a text from Antonio, the owner of Harborside’s supermarket. Antonio was a great guy. He had always been there for Izzie and Grams when they needed some extra help buying groceries. His wife always sent meals over, too.

  ANTONIO’S CELL: The whole block is in! Call me to discuss details.

  “Mrs. Fitz?” Izzie said, unable to hide her glee. “I have a solution.”

  “Good.” Mrs. Fitz slumped in her chair. “Let me hear it.”

  “None of the caterers in town will work with me on the event—that’s true,” Izzie said, “And it doesn’t matter why; it’s just not happening. But I found other restaurants and stores that will work with us, and I think they make a lot more sense.” Mira looked at her curiously. “Since we’re raising funds for my old community center, I called some people from my neighborhood to see if they’d donate.” Izzie’s voice grew animated. “They’re all in! I can guarantee Southern food that will make your mouth water—ribs, barbecue chicken, sweet-potato fries, chicken-fried steak…” Izzie listed half a dozen more options, all of which would come from restaurants in Harborside. Antonio had agreed to provide all the beverages from his supermarket and he had spoken to several restaurants Izzie knew and loved that signed on when they’d heard what the cause was for.

  “You want EP to have a party catered by restaurants in Harborside?” Savannah said condescendingly.

  “What’s wrong with that?” Violet asked, her oval eyes like slits.

  “I love the idea,” Mira said boldly. Several girls, many of whom had never given Izzie a second glance, murmured their agreement. Everyone started talking about how different the idea was, as if using anything non-EC-related was so groundbreaking.

  “So do I,” said Mrs. Fitz, regaining some of her natural color. Savannah still looked like she might pass out. “I was getting tired of the same filet mignon and red roasted potatoes at every event. This is genius, Isabelle! I’m so relieved you came through for us! Headmaster Heller will love it! I can see the school press release now: ‘Harborside gives back to their own with EP’s help.’ It’s perfect.”

  When the meeting ended, Izzie was so busy taking congratulations from some of the girls that she barely noticed Savannah arguing with Mira. But once she did, she hovered nearby.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Savannah seethed. “I was offering you an olive branch back there, in case you didn’t notice.”

  “I noticed,” Mira said calmly. “I just didn’t take it.”

  “Do you know what you’re doing, Mira? If you side with her, we’re done,” Savannah hissed. “I will—”

  “What will you do, Savannah?” Izzie strode across the room, and Savannah sort of blanched when she realized Izzie was still there. “You’re all talk. Mira is the one who has the real guts in your friendship.”

  “I’m not going to listen to this,” Savannah said, her eyes darting from one girl to the other. “I was obviously wrong about you, Mira. You and your cousin deserve each other.” She picked up her things. “I hope your dad finds a new cash cow for his campaign.”

  “What was that supposed to mean?” Izzie asked Mira, immediately thinking of Lucas.

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” Mira glared at the door shutting behind Savannah. “But thanks for sticking up for me just now. I don’t deserve it.”

  “True, but you had my back in here today, too. That took real guts,” she said, trying not to smile.

  “Thanks,” Mira said, looking sort of pleased. She pulled her notebook to her chest. “So you’ll let me help you guys?”

  Izzie looked her over skeptically. “For real this time?”

  “Yes. And you should take the offer, too, because you need me,” Mira pressed, causing Izzie’s eyebrows to rise. Maybe telling Mira she had “guts” was a bad thing. “I’m good at parties,” she added. “It’s practically in my blood. I know EP inside, outside, and backwards, and whatever you’ve got planned, I can make it even better. You just have to give me a chance.”

  Izzie wanted to be stubborn and tell Mira to take a hike, but she knew for this event
to be a success she needed Mira’s help.

  “Okay,” Izzie agreed finally. “When do we start?”

  Mira smiled warmly at Izzie. Maybe for the first time ever. “Right now.”

  Twenty-Three

  Two Saturdays later, Bessie the cow and her friends had temporarily moved out, and EP’s barn had been transformed into fall fabulousness. Branches and paper leaves hung from the ceiling, and hay covered every corner of the floor, where bales doubled as seating. Everywhere you looked there was a pumpkin or gourd, many transformed into incredible centerpieces that Mira had the Butterflies carve from patterns she found on a website. There were pumpkins spray-painted with sparkly silver and black glitter on all thirty tables, which surrounded the stage that had been brought in for DJ Backslide. Outside, four horse-drawn carriages were at the ready, waiting along a road that would be lit by hand-carved pumpkins. In nearby white tents, members of the Harborside Community Center were getting ready to serve the meals that evening. Now that Izzie’s whole hometown knew her plan, everyone she knew was pitching in.

  Izzie stood in the hayloft overlooking the activity below. Butterflies were setting tables alongside her friends from home. Girls who’d never chipped a nail before were wheeling beverage carts alongside Kylie, Molly, and Pete. Along with her old town’s shop workers, other EP students were helping DJ Backslide’s people test the sound system. Emerald Cove and Harborside were working together, and they weren’t killing each other. Amazement didn’t cover what Izzie was feeling.

  A few Butterflies looked up from the table they were setting and waved to her. “The place looks incredible, Izzie!” Piper Axon, a redheaded junior, yelled.

  “Thanks!” Most of the Butterflies were friendlier to her now. She knew they were relieved that she didn’t botch the event, but she also sensed that some had started to feel something else toward her: respect. Maybe I could fit in here, a tiny voice in the back of her head said, and for the first time, she didn’t try to swat it away.

  “The place looks incredible, doesn’t it?” Mira climbed the ladder behind Izzie and stared at the large wooden rafters covered with leaves. She was dressed casually in jeans and riding boots, sort of in theme with the evening. Izzie had on sweats, and they were covered with paint from some last-minute pumpkin touch-ups. “It looks totally different than it did forty-eight hours ago,” Mira added.

  Izzie watched Kylie wheel in another box of soda with a handcart. “I still can’t believe we pulled it off,” Izzie said. It felt both weird and good to talk to Mira so easily after almost two months of smoldering anger and nasty looks. She didn’t know where the relationship was headed after the night was over, but for now, it was surprisingly okay. “I can’t believe almost three hundred people are coming tonight,” Izzie said in wonderment. “Between raffles, carriage rides, and tickets, do you know how much money we’re going to raise? The community center is going to have more money than they know what to do with it.”

  “About that,” Mira said tentatively, “there is something you need to know…”

  Izzie hushed her, apparently not hearing what she had said. “Do you hear yelling?” She didn’t need any problems. Not when things were going so well. She looked around, but she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, so she peered out of the upstairs barn window.

  Brayden and Savannah were near the side of the barn under a huge oak tree. It was a gorgeous early fall afternoon and the temperature was still in the eighties. The pair didn’t seem to be enjoying the weather, though. They were having a heated debate, and Savannah was crying.

  “What’s going on—oh,” Mira said, her eyes widening in disbelief.

  Izzie felt guilty watching, but she couldn’t tear herself away. Savannah kept trying to put her arms around Brayden, but he kept gently pushing her away. Savannah was saying something to him, but the sound system in the barn was being tested and it was hard to hear.

  “It looks like they’re breaking up,” Mira said anxiously.

  Brayden was talking to Savannah calmly, but she kept shaking her head and alternating between yelling and crying. Izzie had never seen Savannah so unhinged, and she went back and forth between feeling bad for her and being secretly glad to see her take a hit. Whatever Brayden was saying, he meant it. Izzie felt a sliver of hope as she watched the tragedy play out below. If Savannah and Brayden were breaking up, and she said if, did that mean Brayden was doing it to be with her?

  How could she even think that? She had specifically told him not to break up with Savannah. Even if Brayden was un-attached, that didn’t mean anything could or would happen between them. Their lives were too different. It could never work. But…

  “Maybe I better ask someone to check on Savannah before she causes a scene,” Mira suggested. “If Mrs. Fitz sees them, she’ll have a panic attack. She’s already in overdrive with Dad coming tonight. He’s actually presenting some huge check to the community center.”

  “He told me last night,” Izzie said, remembering. It was the first time she had ever hugged him, but she really appreciated the gesture. He had looked mildly embarrassed. “That’s incredible.”

  “Yeah,” Mira said, hesitating slightly.

  “Fine!” they heard Savannah yell.

  “I better go,” Mira said again.

  Izzie continued to watch, unable to pull herself away. Savannah was almost pleading with Brayden now. Her makeup was smearing so badly she looked like a raccoon. Brayden tried to reason with her, but Savannah pushed him away and left. Izzie moved out of sight, but not before Savannah spotted her face in the barn window.

  Izzie was a little unnerved, but she couldn’t think about what had just happened when there was still so much to do. She threw herself back into the event, accepting deliveries, giving out assignments, and overseeing last-minute details. It wasn’t until Mrs. Fitz firmly pushed her out of the barn at 5 PM to go home and get ready that she thought about Brayden again. It was hard not to when he was standing outside right in front of her.

  “Need a lift?” he asked playfully, gesturing to one of the horse-drawn carriages. He wasn’t ready for the hoedown yet, either. He was still wearing a ripped navy-blue tee with a pirate skull that said dead freddie’s on it and paint-splattered jeans. “The driver’s dying to time the run.”

  Izzie hesitated and touched one of the studs in her ear. How did you act around a boy you couldn’t have but liked so much your heart hurt? “I would, but I have to go home quick to change and get back here.” She started to walk away. Brayden blocked her path.

  “This is the quickest way.” He opened the carriage door. “Get in.”

  Izzie climbed in while he talked to the driver. Then Brayden jumped in next to her and the two sat awkwardly across from each other. Izzie did everything she could to avoid eye contact.

  “So I guess you heard,” Brayden said, breaking the silence after a few minutes. “Savannah and I officially broke up this afternoon.”

  “Oh,” Izzie said, staring out the window to avoid giving anything away. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I am,” Brayden said, sounding so sure of himself. “I was honest. I told her it’s been over for a while and I have feelings for someone else—you.” Izzie clutched her messenger bag tightly and refused to look at him. “Savannah must have known that. That’s why she freaked out at Corky’s that night. I tried to break it off, then,” he explained, “but she wouldn’t have it. She begged me to pretend we were still together till after tonight. She did not want to go to her sweet sixteen alone, which I get, but the Falling into You Fest… I just didn’t see the point in pretending any longer. I want to spend tonight with you.”

  Izzie didn’t look over at him, but she could feel his blue-green eyes on her.

  “Iz, I know I should have been up front last summer about having a girlfriend, but I didn’t know how to end things with Savannah when our parents were so close,” Brayden felt the need to explain. “All I knew was that I hated who I was when I was with her.”

>   The carriage gave a sudden lurch and Izzie grabbed the wooden seat for support. She was sure that if she didn’t hold on, she would fall over and it wouldn’t be the horse’s fault.

  Brayden crossed the carriage and sat next to her. “I know what you’re going to say, Iz. We don’t work. But you’re wrong. When I’m with you, the whole world looks different.” She could feel her heart beat loudly, and she wondered if Brayden could hear it, too. “I want someone who builds people up, not tears them down. I need someone who makes me laugh and isn’t afraid to rib me when I’m being a royal jerk.” She smiled a little. “You’re that girl. I want to be with you, and I want everyone to know it.”

  Izzie felt like she was going to overheat. He wanted her and he didn’t care who knew. Was she wrong to assume this couldn’t work? But Savannah… It all came back to Savannah. Even if she and Brayden were broken up, Savannah would never leave them alone. She’d make Brayden’s life hell, too, and that was unfair. At least she was used to the torture. “I…”

  Brayden leaned in close, and Izzie could smell his after-shave. Her body went stiff as a board. She was almost afraid to look at him. “Say you’ll think about it,” he said softly.

  “We’ve arrived at Emerald Prep’s main gate!” the driver announced. “And it only took six minutes!”

  Izzie turned her head quickly to make a joke and that’s when it happened. Brayden kissed her softly on the lips. She was so caught by surprise that she felt like all the air had been sucked out of the carriage. She couldn’t hear anything but swishing in her ears. Her hands started to tingle. The moment she had thought about so many times was even better than she’d imagined. Her eyes were still closed when she heard him leave the carriage.

  But maybe Brayden leaving was a good thing. Now she had time to think about that kiss, and what her answer would be when she saw him again.

  Twenty-Four

  Mira stood at the back of the barn in a beautiful peach cocktail dress, her small silver clutch dangling from her arm. She couldn’t help smiling with satisfaction. The twinkling lights were a great move. They illuminated the crowded dance floor, where DJ Backslide kept the hits coming. Her parents’ friends kept stopping her to say how impressed they were with the food and the decor. “How imaginative,” one alumni couple said. “Elegant and refined,” said a local politician. “This must have cost a fortune!” marveled another. Mira stifled a laugh. This had been the cheapest party the Butterflies had ever thrown, and it was turning out to be the most successful. There was a line of people still clamoring for tickets (they were sold out), and parents, students, and alumni were mingling with the mayor, who couldn’t get enough of the Harborside BBQ’s ribs. People loved the party, and they owed it all to Izzie.